Silent Partner
by Cunri of the Mountains
Summary: The duo, long before their bank robbing days, are prisoners of Valparaiso Orphanage. They meet an unlikely friend. Rated T for child abuse.
1. Henry

Bitter broth sat cold in Jed's bowl. He tried to convince himself to take another drink, but his empty stomach turned at the thought. He had only been the prisoner of Valparaiso for a few days, and he already hated everything about the grim orphanage. Any chance he got, Jed would complain to his cousin about their misfortune. Hannibal would just nod. "We'll get out of here. I promise."

Jed believed him. Hannibal had a way of getting things done like no one else he had ever met. When Jed was four, he fell through an old well. Covered in mud, he began to believe he would die in that pit until he heard Hannibal calling his name. Jed has never forgotten the fear in his cousin's eyes as he hauled him from the darkness. Jed hoped with everything within him that Hannibal could pull them from this abyss as well.

Glancing up from his thoughts, Jed noticed a boy, around his own age, holding the bowl of broth close to his chest. The boy's eyes were wide beneath his shaggy blonde curls. He kept glancing over his shoulder, like a mouse who smells a cat nearby. Jed realized a little to late that the boy was headed right toward the headmaster. Jed called out, but the boy bumped the stocky headmaster growled as the sticky broth spilled all over his white shirt.

"You insolent child!" He roared, striking the boy across the face. The boy made a low whimpering noise and flailed his arms franticly. The headmaster kicked him in the side, "Will you not even apologize? You ungrateful-" The boy rubbed his fist across his chest, along with other gestures, as he tried to scoot away from the fuming teacher.

Hannibal was watching with an unreadable expression. He stood suddenly, flapping his hand in the air. The boy looked at him, confusion and pain in his blue eyes. Hannibal tried clapping one of his hands beside his face, then wiggling his fingers in front of his mouth. "Speak." He breathed. "Say you're sorry."

The boy suddenly looked to the schoolmaster. "Sorry! I sorry!" He begged.

Jed was surprised by the boy's voice. It was as if the boy was talking with his mouth full of water. And why did he not apologize from the start?

The headmaster seemed pacified. "Miserable whelp." He grabbed the boy by his fluffy hair and drug him to his feet. "Sit down!" He demanded, pointing to the table where Hannibal and Jed sat. The boy nodded, quickly shuffling beside Jed. When the furious schoolmaster was out of eyesight, the boy finally looked up from the table. He gave Hannibal an appreciative smile. Hannibal nodded, returning with a grin.

Jed felt like the only one left out of a joke. He looked from the boy to his cousin and back, "Why didn't you just say you were sorry?" He shrugged. "He wouldn't have hit you as much." The boy stared at him, chewing his lip. "What's a matter with you? Don't you speak English?" The boy furrowed his brow and looked at Hannibal.

Hannibal pointed to the boy, then put his hand to his ear, as if listening for a far-off train whistle. The boy shook his head solemnly. Nodding, Hannibal looked at Jed, "He's deaf."

"Deaf?" Jed looked at the boy again. "But he's not old enough to be deaf."

"Deaf isn't just for old people." He rolled his eyes. "Some people just are deaf. Like they're born that way."

While they talked, the boy looked back and forth between them, seeming uncomfortable. His blue eyes finally settled on Jed's broth, Jed noticed and pointed to the bowl. "You want it?" The boy blinked at him. Jed scooted the cold soup to him. "You can have it."

Smiling again, the boy ate the broth like it was the best soup he's ever had.

"So, what's your name?" Jed asked the boy as he finished the bowl, but he did not look up. Jed gave a confused glance at his cousin. "Hannibal," he whined. "How do we talk to him? I mean, we can't even ask his name."

Hannibal thought for a moment. Tapping on the table, he gained the boy's attention. With a quick look around, making sure no one was watching, Hannibal pulled a wrinkled scrap of paper and gnarled pencil from his pocket. Scribbling on the paper, he passed it to the boy.

_What is your name?_

The boy grinned, writing right underneath.

_Henry_

Hannibal and Jed read it and smiled. Henry waved his hand and the two looked at him. He took two fingers and swiped them over his heart in an X.

Jed cocked his head. "What's he doing?"

"I think that's how he says his name." Hannibal pointed at Henry, then crossed his heart in the same way.

Henry nodded excitedly. Hannibal took back the paper.

_Hannibal Jedidiah_

He pointed each name to each boy, and Henry smiled. He signed something that Hannibal could only guess as

_Pleasure to meet you._


	2. Valparaiso

While Jed still struggled, Hannibal picked up Henry's signing quickly. The trio spent every possible moment together; Valparaiso was not an easy place to find yourself friendless. When the instructors were looking away, Henry would point to an object, then show his sign for it. Before a week had passed, Hannibal could almost hold a conversation. Jed had much less success than his cousin. During the daily, lunch-time signing lessons, he often sat in silence, playing the lookout. He could not figure out why, but the teachers were furious anytime they caught Henry signing. They would slap him, threatening to tie rags over his hands to keep them still. Jed thought it was strange. Henry knew only a few words in English, so why did they demand him to speak? Jed asked Hannibal, but he only shrugged. He had to steal an old envelope from the trash bin to write on so they could ask Henry.

_Mom says people think deaf people are stupid for not speak_

Hannibal and Jed looked at each other. "That doesn't make sense." Shaking his head, Jed grabbed the pencil.

_But you are not stupid_

_Mom says people get scared because different_

_How did she die?_

Henry looked at the paper, then back at the duo with a furrowed brow. When Hannibal read it, he nudged Jed with a huff, "You're not supposed to ask that!"

"Why not?" Jed whined. "It's a fair question."

"Cause, it ain't proper." Hannibal grumbled. "You want to explain where our folks are?"

Jed knew the question was rhetorical, but he still shook his head. He was about to apologize when he noticed Henry had scribbled on the envelope.

_My mom not dead_

It was Hannibal's turn to be confused. He snatched the paper.

_Where is she? If you aren't an orphan, why are you here?_

As he passed the message back across the table, Jeb elbowed him in the side. "Headmaster!" He hissed.

Henry must have noticed the change in their demeanor, quickly stuffing the note in his pocket. The boys kept their heads low, staring at the empty trays with shifting eyes. The stout headmaster had the stuck-up nose of a bulldog, with jowls to match. His cold gaze drifted to each table as he marched down the aisles. He threw a snarl at Henry, but kept walking with the stiffness of a toy soldier.

Whether because of bravery or stupidity, Jed turned in his seat and watched the schoolmaster leave. He wanted nothing more than a fist-sized rock to pitch at the angry man. Before he had the chance to think of an alternative to a rock, an old woman stomped from the kitchen holding a little metal rod. Striking a rusted rail with all of the might in her skeleton arms, she hollered. "Lunch time over! Go on, get to the schoolhouse!"

Henry glanced around until he saw the old woman, then he stood with the rest of the boys filing through the door. Once they left the cafeteria, they were sorted into single-file lines and marched to the school house. When Hannibal first arrived at Valparaiso, he was excited about the notion of a real school house. His parents had taught him well, but he always fancied the idea of a small shed with a tiny bell on top where all of the kids of the town would gather and learn. However, this schoolhouse tainted that daydream.

Instead of learning about science or math, the boys were taught a trade. This month, they slaved over saddles, pouches, and vests to learn leatherworking. Something about the repetitiveness of stamping the hide with fancy patterns or meticulously stitching on loops and latches made Hannibal itch. Moreover, the one-room schoolhouse became an oven once twenty or more boys crowed in. He wished to be anywhere else. Even back in the middle of the Indian wars was less stressful.

But, with a straight face, he did his job. He knew if he rebelled – even just a little – Jed would take it too far. Jed had always been quick to act, slow to think. Hannibal had promised to get them out, but not this soon. Not until he had a plan. And now, he realized as he punched grommets for a vest, Henry would need to come with them. As close as they had become, Hannibal still felt hesitant to bring Henry along. But he knew there was no chance either him, or his cousin, could leave could leave their new friend. Hannibal wiped some sweat from his face and sighed. This was not going to be easy.

oooooooooo

Quick author's note: Henry's written grammar is intentional. People in which English is not their first language sometimes use incorrect grammar, sign language is no different. Just wanted you to know that it was not an oversight. Thanks!


	3. The Plan

The plan unfolded slowly, with Hannibal keeping the squares of stale cornbread they received for breakfast. Soon, he had a sock full of bread hidden under his mattress. Water was the next concern. No matter where he searched, water skins were nowhere to be found. Hannibal remembered seeing a creek a few miles south, but they would first need to find a way out of Valparaiso. Jed suggested breaking away from the group during their scheduled "outdoor recreation" time, climbing the tall wooden fence around the perimeter of the campus, and simply running to freedom, but Hannibal shot that idea down before it had fully left his cousin's mouth. They needed to be stealthy if they would escape; running blindly would only get them caught.

Then he had to worry about Henry. From what Hannibal had gathered, Henry had lived in a small city called Ansglow; His mother cleaned houses and did laundry for the townspeople, making enough to money to keep food on the table, but Henry was kept inside as much as possible. A month ago, his mother traveled upstate after receiving a letter. He said she never told him what was in the note. There was no word from her for three weeks. When a bank robbery gone wrong sparked a fire that scorched half the city, no one was there to clarify where his mother was to the frantic townspeople. They sent him to the orphanage without giving him a chance to explain. Hannibal just could not believe it.

The plan finally clicked when he noticed a small window high on the wall of the cafeteria. The glass was barred and padlocked, but the frame would be large enough for the boys to weasel through. A grin spread across his face. This might work out after all.


	4. Sleepless Night, Restless Morning

"Come on, Han," Jed whined from his cot. "When can we get out of here?"

"Hush." Hannibal grumbled back. "You want to wake the whole building?" His brown eyes scanned the empty blackness of the bunkroom. More than twenty-three cots stuffed into a small, square room. There were hardly a few inches between each bed.

"But you promised we'd get out of here."

"I know what I promised." Hannibal snapped. "Listen," he began, a little softer, "we'll make a run for it tomorrow night. Okay?"

Jed squirmed in his squeaky cot. "Okay."

"We just need to make certain Henry knows the plan." He stifled a yawn. "I'm just about out of paper again. And I don't guess I know enough of that hand-speak to tell him that way." Hannibal heard a faint snore and glanced at his cousin. "Out like a light," he mused to himself. "Kid, you ought to teach me that trick one of these days."

The night ticked on, and Hannibal eventually fell into sleep, though not deeply. Worry tugged at his mind through the night and into the dawn. Hannibal was the oldest, and as oldest, he expected himself to look out for the younger boys. If this went sideways, they would all be in big trouble.

When sunlight finally trickled through the high, narrow windows of the bunkhouse, Hannibal found himself more tired than when the night began. He rubbed the sand from his eyes and sighed. "This is going to be a long day."

Those words had hardly left his mouth when the bunkhouse door opened creaked open. Hannibal stiffened on his cot, closing his eyes. When the door was open just enough, Mr. Barlow snaked into the room.

Mr. Barlow was a weaselly old man who seemed to always have something in his teeth. Most days, he was pleasant, smiling and laughing, but the boys knew better than to get on his bad side. There were times when his mood would turn like lightning, and he would become so angry, he seemed ready to choke. Hannibal had seen more than once someone step out of line, or be awake before dawn, or even just ask him a question that he deems "imprudent and thoughtless"; those boys never came back the same, if they came back at all. Most of the stories were baseless rumors, but Hannibal witnessed Kenneth Jones, a boy who was around three years younger than Jed, ask Mr. Barlow if he could get additional servings at supper-time if he did extra chores. Mr. Barlow grabbed Kenneth by the hair and pulled him out of line, spitting curses. He looked as if he was going to remove his belt to beat poor Kenneth, but Mr. Barlow's yellowed eyes caught sight of the staircase. Grasping the back of Kenneth's shirt, he lifted the boy and threw him down the stairs. Then he calmly turned to the line of boys and smiled. "Wait here. I'll be back in five minutes." Mr. Barlow gingerly stepped down the stairs. No boy dared look over the bannister to see, but they all heard crying as Kenneth was drug away. No one saw him after that. Most the boys say that he was put on a wagon and taken away to an even worse place, but when they think about it a little longer, they often go silent. Hannibal only knew one thing: Mr. Barlow was unpredictable.

"Wakey, wakey, boys." Mr. Barlow sang, gently tapping on the boys' feet as he passed their cots. "Time to wake up."

Hannibal sat up slowly. He glanced at his cousin. Jed's eyes were red and watery and he sat on his bunk with his head down.

"Alrighty, boys," Mr. Barlow cooed. "Get dressed. I want to see you all spic and span in five minutes." He slipped out of the room and closed the door.

The second he was gone, the room exploded in to a flurry of boys all trying to change their trousers, make the bed, wash their face, and all getting in each other's way. But getting ready for the day was farthest from Hannibal's mind. He crawled across his cot to face Jed. "What's wrong, Kid?"

Jed sniffed and turned away. "Nothing." He fiddled with the scratchy bedsheets.

"I know something's the matter." Hannibal laughed. "You got to tell me."

He shrugged, "I just had a bad dream. That's all."

Hannibal nodded. "Was it about your ma?"

A strange expression crossed Jed's face. He furrowed his brow and his eyes wandered, "Yeah, yeah, it was about Ma."

Hannibal thought about pressing the subject, but his bed was not going to make itself. Another sigh escaped his lips as he tucked the corners of the sheets under the thin mattress.


	5. Putting the Plan in Action

The day seemed to last forever. Hannibal churned the plan over and over again in his mind. If only one thing went wrong, Hannibal stopped himself from following that thought. Nothing would go wrong.

Luckily, Hannibal had stolen some paper just before dinnertime, and Henry quickly caught on to the plan. The young boy seemed excited by the thought of escaping the prison. And as the sun set on another dreadful day in Valparaiso, the boys were led, single-file, into the bunkhouse. A low murmur passed throughout the room as the boys complained about their day or reminisced over a better life. Hannibal, Jed, and Henry all changed into the thin, shabby nightclothes like the other boys, but the smile that played on Jed's lips differed from the others' soured expressions. No one had missed the sun on his face like Jed. He missed riding horses and playing in creek beds with his cousin. He wanted to feel the summer breeze in his hair and watch the crows and hawks bicker over the big oak tree near Red Mud Lake. Jed had a spring in his step, thinking of all the fun they would have once they escaped. But as he sat on the side of his cot, his grin faded.

"Hey, Han?" He ducked his head, bashfully.

Hannibal did not even look up from his worn shoes, "Hmm?"

"I was just wondering," Jed's voice trailed off.

Looking up, Hannibal watched his younger cousin run his fingers over the edge of the cot. "What are you wondering?" He prodded.

Jed shrugged. "Are you sure we're going to make it?"

"Sure, I'm sure." Hannibal furrowed his brow. "We'll be just fine. Why are you so jumpy all of a sudden?"

"I just, well, last night, I dreamed-"

"Time for all the good little boys to be in their beds, fast asleep." Mr. Barlow paced back and forth past the cots, blowing out every candle in the room, save the one in his hand.

A hush fell over the room and Hannibal and Jed quickly tucked themselves into their bunks. From his cot, he could barely make out Henry in the dark bunkhouse. To his chagrin, Hannibal realized Henry's bunk was just about the farthest bed from the door.

"Now, have sweet dreams." Mr. Barlow said as he left the room. "I'll be just outside the door if you need me."

A sense of dread hit Hannibal. He hoped that 'just outside the door' was an expression, or they would be in a lot of trouble. He listened to Mr. Barlow's shoes tapping on the wooden floor as he walked away. Hannibal could hardly contain a relieved sigh.

All was silent for an eternity. Hannibal laid still, carefully watching the sky through the small, eastward window. When the moon passed from his view, he began to count. The way he figured, everyone should be asleep five-hundred seconds after the moon disappeared, so just over eight minutes later, Hannibal slowly crept from his cot. Jed's bunk was adjacent, thus his was the first stop. He gently tapped his cousin's shoulder. "Come on, Jed, wake up." He breathed. The sleeping boy scarcely 007Astirred. "Get up!" Hannibal huffed, thumping his cousin on the knee.

"Huh?" Jed sat bolt upright.

Hannibal threw his hand over Jed's mouth. "Shhh! We have to be quiet. I think they're all asleep." Handing the sock full of bread to his yawning cousin, he slunk towards Henry's bunk with care. Henry looked so much smaller curled up on the cot like a house cat. Hannibal touched Henry's foot and the boy immediately opened his eyes. Hannibal put a finger to his lips and smiled and Henry nodded. The three boys stood in the middle of the room for a moment, giddy with the excitement of sneaking around, but terrified of the thought of getting caught. Hannibal was the first to move. He stepped lightly to the door, opening it ever so slightly. He could see no one in the long, dark hallway. Gradually, he determined that the coast was clear and waved the two into the hall with him.

"Okay, I'll get the stable key from the Headmaster's office, you get Henry to the chow-hall and wait for me." He whispered to his cousin. In the dark, he could only barely make out Jed face, but he looked as scared as Hannibal felt. "It's probably too dark to write to Henry, but take the paper just in case."

Finding the office was easy, but getting to the office was a different story entirely. The headmaster's office sat at the farthest end of a little corridor where the alternative classrooms waited for the disobedient children. Hannibal tiptoed past the half open doors, praying there was no one inside. When he finally reached the office, he released a breath. The door was sturdy oak with a small plaque: Mr. Theodore Maxwell, Headmaster's Office.

Reaching into his sock, Hannibal produced a worn lock pick. He gave a bittersweet smile. His father gave him a few lockpicks for Christmas; he had said, 'Just in case you find yourself in trouble, I want you to be able to find your way out of it.' Hannibal remembered his mother's surprise, and then irritation at the gift. 'Are you trying to raise a criminal?' Hannibal's nose tingled as tears pricked his eyes. He shook the thoughts away; there would be time to ponder the past when they were free. Suddenly, a clamor broke the silence. Hannibal jumped. Then a realization hit them, they were as good as caught. Hannibal sprinted to the chow hall to find a couple tables stacked to reach the high window and one of the chairs lying on the floor.

"I'm sorry!" Jed wailed, "It was an accident!"

There was no time to lose. "Take this." Hannibal pushed the lockpick into his hands. "Go back to your beds. I'll be right behind you."

Jed and Henry disappeared from sight. Hannibal shimmed between the tables and the wall and shoved them away from the window. He had to keep the headmaster from knowing they were trying to escape. Adrenaline roared in his ears as he unceremoniously pulled the upper table from the lower one with another clatter.

"What's going on in there?" A voice bellowed from the other room.

Hannibal figured he had at most twelve seconds to throw them off the trail. He picked up the chair, tossing it towards the kitchen door. It had to be enough diversion; he was out of time. As he turned to the hallway, his saw a dark figure looming at the other end of the chow hall. Hannibal ran, but the tall shadow barreled towards him like a freight train. He barely touched the doorknob as a vice grip caught his wrist, whipping him around. He stared nose to nose with the snarling face of the Mr. Barlow. His yellowed eyes seemed to shine, even in the darkness, and whiskey rolled off his breath.

"Boy, you are in a whole heap of trouble."


	6. From the Other Side

Jed was terrified. He sat in the dark with the other bunkhouse boys, all of them looking around and asking questions. Jed just cried. He knew something bad would happen, but he never thought it would be this bad. Or be all his fault. Henry sat next to him with an arm on his shoulder. It was too dark to write of use sign to communicate, so Henry just leaned against his friend. They heard a second crash. Jed stared at the door, waiting for Hannibal to enter. Sounds got closer and his heart started racing. But just as hope swelled in his chest, Jed heard Mr. Barlow growling through the door. His heart sank to his knees. Hannibal had been caught.

Jed began wishing he was the one who was deaf as he heard the familiar crack of a hand against a face. Jed wanted to race out that door and pound Mr. Barlow into pulp, but something stopped him. He took a breath as the noise outside died down and he realized they had taken his cousin away. He felt an odd determination. He would get Hannibal back, if it was the last thing ever done.


	7. An Unwelcome Classroom

Hannibal had not seen the insides of the alternative classrooms before. He had only been a prisoner of Valparaiso long enough to hate it, not long enough to cause too much trouble. That is, until now.

Other than a red cheek and a headache from being dragged by his hair, Hannibal was unharmed. Mr. Barlow had left a few minutes ago to fetch the headmaster. Hannibal took this opportunity to blink, yawn, look around, stretch his shoulders, anything he could think to help him relax. Hard to be a convincing liar when your all tense. He thought briefly about ambushing them when they returned and racing back to Jed and Henry, but logic quickly took over and reminded him that freedom was a lot farther away. A glance around the room showed that he would not do well to try to fight back at all; the pale walls were bare: no pictures, no, windows, no shelves, nothing. There was a chair in the corner of the room and a single candle flickering by the door, but otherwise, the room was baron.

Hannibal thought he heard footsteps creeping closer. He placed himself at the far end of the room with his back against the wall, watching the handle turn slowly. When it had turned a full revolution, the door flew open, hitting the wall with a bang. The headmaster filled the doorway with his stocky shoulders. He stomped inside, with crooked Mr. Barlow hovering behind him with a candle. When the schoolmaster got to the center of the room, Mr. Barlow scooted the chair to him and he sat down with a huff.

"What's your name?" Headmaster spat, glaring down at Hannibal with beady black eyes.

Hannibal felt quite scared, but his face was calm as a summer's breeze. "My name is Hannibal Heyes, Sir."

The headmaster seemed annoyed at the boy's lack of fear. He leaned closer. "And why were you out of your cot, Mr. Heyes?"

Forcing his voice calm, he stared down the headmaster. "I had a bad dream and decided to go for a walk."

"Liar!" Headmaster roared. Mr. Barlow jumped forward and struck Hannibal across the face with the back of his hand. The force of the hit knocked Hannibal to the old, wood floor.

After taking a second to move his jaw, Hannibal sat back up, keeping his eyes level.

"Now I will ask you again." Headmaster was so angry, his jowls shook. "What were you doing outside your cot?"

"I told you, I needed some fresh air." Mr. Barlow did not hesitate to backhand Hannibal again. He stared at the floor for just a moment, gasping. He had not expected the slap so soon, and he had bitten his tongue on the way down. He sat up slower that time. "Alright." He panted, his head low, but his eyes still fierce. "I was trying to break in to the kitchen."

Mr. Barlow reared back to smack him again, but the headmaster stopped him. "And why were you stealing food?" he sneered.

"Because I'm starving." He said plainly.

Headmaster leaned back in his chair, interlocking his fingers over his large abdomen. "Stealing, Mr. Heyes, is a sin."

Hannibal lifted an eyebrow at the round man. "So is gluttony."

The headmaster sputtered. "You need to learn to respect your elders!" He thundered as he stood. He took a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping either side of his mouth as he stomped to the door. "Mr. Barlow, kindly explain to this young gentleman the importance of honoring his superiors." He turned to Hannibal. "When I return, I'll be expecting an apology, young man."

As the door closed, Hannibal looked up a Mr. Barlow. Those yellowed eyes always gave him a sick feeling. He tried to keep his face straight, but as the man leaned in, Hannibal recoiled from the stench of his breath.

"Now, you're going to learn some manners, boy." Another backhand. If Hannibal's mind was not spinning, he may have made a comment about that, but as it was, he spit blood on the flooring. A swift kick to the gut, and Hannibal wondered if he were going to vomit. He knew better than to fight back; Mr. Barlow needed no excuse use that gun on his belt. Mr. Barlow grasped a handful of Hannibal's brown hair and used it to drag him to his feet. "I hope you understand how lucky you are." He grinned. "A lot of boys don't get the discipline they need." He dropped Hannibal back to the floor. "I'll let you think on that for a while." He delivered another kick, this time to Hannibal's diaphragm. Hannibal gasped for air. "I'll be back later, boy. You talk real nice to Mr. Maxwell, and he may actually let you eat today." He snickered as he blew out the candle, leaving Hannibal alone in the inky blackness of the room.

His breathing gradually returned to normal, but his face throbbed and all he could smell was blood. Despite himself, he smiled. They had believed him. Jed and Henry were safe. It seemed like a fine trade-off. When the headmaster let him out, they would try the escape again. "This is just a minor setback." He told himself, but as the day wore on, he became less certain. The room remained dark even well into the day. Hannibal sat close to the wall, reminding himself that there was still hope. Though, he was having trouble remembering what that hope was.

oooooo

Authors Note: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far, but especially to the guest who commented on my spelling error of "Heyes". To my knowledge, it has been fixed. Be sure to let me know if there are any other oddities. Thanks!


	8. Reunited

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the wait! Blame COVID, online classes, or just plain procrastination! I'm happy to be finally posting the next chapter, though I'm not certain when the next one will be ready... Thanks for sticking with me!

xXxXxXx

Without Heyes to mediate, Jed realized how impossible it was for him to communicate with Henry. While he had paper, rare was the opportunity to sit down and write to each other. Frequently throughout the day, Henry would wave his hands around and Jed would just stare and shake his head. "I don't know what you're saying, Henry. I don't know."

When lunch time finally rolled around, Jed cooked up a plan. He thought about telling Henry, but he felt it would take too long, so he quickly scribbled on the paper, "_I'm getting Han back_.". Half throwing it at him, the scheme went into effect. He walked the line to get their daily gruel, but he drug his feet, moaning and holding his belly. The cook glared at Jed. Something about her bleak eyes made Jed consider stopping the charade, but the thought of bringing back Han kept him going. "I don't feel too well, Miss."

She dropped the ladle back into the soup with a growl. "Get away from the pot! You'll plague the lot of us," She shooed him out of the line, the loose skin flapping under her skeleton arms. "Go to the nurse!"

Jed could not hide his smile. He was expecting more of a challenge. Spinning away from her, he stumbled down the hall, headed right towards Hannibal. His heart beat fast in his chest.

"The nurse is the other way."

Jed felt the defeat pierce his chest. He slowly turned back to the cook. "Nevermind," Jed said quietly. He stepped back to her reaching for a bowl. She slapped his hand with a wooden spoon.

"Don't spread your sick around!" she squawked. "Go to the nurse!"

Jed shuffled to the nurse and endured an eternity of embarrassment before she decided to let him go. He began walking to the courtyard, where the other boys were, but he quickly realized the empty hallways and his golden opportunity. As silent as a fox, Jed scampered to the halls on the opposite side of the cafeteria. Every door was half open, except one. With the lockpick Hannibal had given him, he laboriously unlocked the room.

"Jed?" Hannibal stood, "What are you doing?"

Jed threw himself into Hannibal's arms. "I'm busting you out. Wow, they got you good," He reached out and poked Hannibal's purple cheek. "Does it hurt?"

Hannibal smacked his hand. "Of course it hurts." He snapped, "This is a great plan you cooked up, how are we supposed to leave without them noticing, hm?"

Jed shrugged. "I supposed that you would know."

"I would know? How would I know if I didn't know you were coming?"

"I don't know."

The room was still for a moment as the boys looked back and forth for an answer. Finally, Hannibal broke the silence. "Okay. This is okay." His cousin looked at him, "Thanks for getting me, Kid. Means a lot."

Jed beamed. "Don't mention it."

Hannibal nodded. "We just need to get out without getting caught again."

"Well, I still have the lockpick, why don't we just follow through with our original plan?"

"Because the headmaster is likely in his office. No chance of getting that stable key; no chance of getting a horse."

"Why do we even need the key when we have the pick?"

Hannibal huffed "Because once we get outside, they will probably see us. Especially because it's daylight. We'll only have a few moments to get some horses and get out of there. We won't have time to pick it."

"Why can't we just wait until he leaves his office and snag the key?"

Hannibal opened his mouth, but slowly closed it and considered his cousin's words. "You know what, Kid? That might just work."


End file.
